


Stocking Stuffers

by Cinerari



Category: Captain Harlock, Galaxy Railways, コスモウォーリアー零 | Cosmo Warrior Zero, 宇宙戦艦ヤマト2199 | Space Battleship Yamato 2199 (Anime), 銀河鉄道９９９ | Ginga Tetsudou 999 | Galaxy Express 999
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinerari/pseuds/Cinerari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A winter/holiday-themed drabble challenge made from Leijiverse requests. Goal of one per day until Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Black Friday (CWZ/SPCH/AU)

**Author's Note:**

> Specific summaries and any pairings that might be in a chapter will go in the notes. This request was for Harlock, Zero, and Daiba Black Friday shopping.  
> It's dumb.  
> Also, I started adding abbreviations of the shows to the chapter titles, so it's easier to tell what's what.

The line stretched from the front of the store to the front of another store and across the three in-between. But there was Daiba, second from the front. He looked like a starved dog, throwing glares to everyone around them as though they might attack at any moment. As I rolled the car to a stop alongside him, I could see red veins spidering across his eyes from lack of sleep. His nose and cheeks were chapped pink by the cold, lips tinged blue.

“Told him to take a thicker jacket,” Harlock sighed. The pink one Daiba huddled in was paper-thin, hardly fit for a windy day. I was no expert on Fahrenheit, but thirty degrees felt cold. It smacked me in the face like a bucket of ice water as soon as Harlock rolled down the passenger window.

“Daiba!” he yelled. Daiba jolted before looking up to find Harlock leaning out the window. We decided setting foot anywhere near that line would risk its occupants thinking we were jumping to the front. I felt like keeping all my limbs, so we stayed a couple meters away in the car.

“Did you bring me food?” Daiba asked, bouncing on his toes.

“You only sent me thirty texts begging for it,” Harlock said as he tossed the burger we’d picked up over to him. Though Daiba usually dropped every attempt at catching anything, his hands locked on the cheap paper covering. I didn’t see him remove it, but it must have come off when I blinked. He devoured the burger like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“How long has he been here?” I asked Harlock, who’d taken to returning the glares of the people in line.

“I don’t know, but he really wants that game system, whatever it is. Really getting into the American spirit. I’m surprised he doesn’t have frostbite yet.”

With a sigh, I pulled off my jacket and handed it to Harlock. “Give this to him. I don’t feel like taking him to the hospital again.”

Daiba scrambled to catch the jacket and threw it on like a blanket, pressing his nose into the collar. “Oh thanks, Zero. You shouldn’t have,” I muttered into the steering wheel when it was clear he’d lost interest in us. I drove just far enough away to find a parking spot, the closest one in the very back row.

“What are you doing?” Harlock frowned. The tone of his voice was enough to show his disapproval.

“We should wait on him. Make sure he gets out alright.” I was happier to do that from the warmth of a heated car. “The store will open soon, and we can go stand outside to meet him when he gets out.” I didn’t know much about this Black Friday thing, but I did know people managed to injure each other in the process. Daiba was always prone to injury. He didn’t need this odd holiday helping him.

“I just came to bring him food,” Harlock muttered.

“You can walk home,” I said.

When the doors opened, the crowd poured in like herd of livestock. I shut the car off and smacked Harlock out of the doze he’d fallen into. “Come on.”

He grumbled what were likely death threats against me, but he still followed as I headed to the entrance. Through the glass doors, the whole place looked packed. The swarm of people moved between each other in such a rush it was a wonder no one fell over. At least, no one did as far as I could see.

The crowd didn’t seem to dissipate. Even as time passed, the haggard employees were forced to do their best with the rush. Customers left, but more went in. After a half-hour, I was starting to worry. Surely, Daiba should have popped out by now.

“It’s cold,” Harlock said for the fifth time.

“We should go in and find him.”

Harlock blinked. “We?”

I grabbed his arm in a vice grip and dragged him to the door. “Yes, we. If you’re really so cold, you’ll be happy in there. I’m sure it’s warm.”

Harlock hissed something about the crowd. Just before we plowed into it, he attempted to pull away, so I threw him in ahead of me.

I was taller than most of the crowd, but Daiba was so small he was easy to lose. “What if he leaves before we see him?” Harlock asked, his shoulder scrunched into my chest as we attempted to shuffle through the crowd. “I can go wait outside and-“

“No,” I said.

Harlock looked like he was about to kill the man who stepped on his foot, so I yanked him to an emptier area. There was a cleared table draped in a blue cloth that no one seemed interested in. We both sat on the edge and scanned the crowd. “He’s probably just getting tossed around by everyone,” Harlock said. “Doubt he got anywhere near what he wanted with those short legs of his.”

My mind started leaning toward the worst possible options when I heard a squeak of offense from beneath us. Daiba’s head popped out from under the blue cloth, his hair spiking every which way from static. “My legs are not short!” he snapped.

I took a step to the side so he could crawl out from between us. My jacket was wrapped around something, clutched in his arms as though it was some infant in need of protecting. He pushed it my way. “Hold this for me, and make sure no one touches it.” With the look in his eyes, it seemed like a matter of life or death.

“Did you get that-?” He cut me off with a shush, waving his hands frantically.

“We just have to get to the register,” he said.

Harlock looked particularly unimpressed. “If I pull the fire alarm, it would be faster than trying to wade through all those people.”

Daiba’s eyes widened as he neared madness. “If you get us kicked out,” he hissed, “I am taking that other eye.” He sounded so intent on it, I was concerned for the safety of my eyes.

Now Harlock did look somewhat impressed. “This is the last time you’re allowed to participate in this, but let’s get you to a register.”


	2. Fireplace (SPCH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harlock and Mii-kun are the best of besties.

Somewhere between Daiba’s second and dozenth complaint over ice planets, it began to snow. Then it snowed harder, piling up around their boots so that every step came with weighted effort. It was simply too much for the shorter members of the group.

If there hadn’t been a place to stop, Harlock would have carried each party member back to the ship, starting with the little cat wrapped in his cape and held close to his chest for protection against the wind. It howled as though to tell its hatred for them, biting into exposed skin. Harlock could only see half the time, with his hair whipping into his eye every few seconds.

Kei spotted the house, a giddy squeal to her voice at the sight of it. Daiba said it looked more like a lean-to, but Harlock had a feeling the young man had simply never seen a cabin before. Like everything else, it was almost buried in a curtain of white. Some of the snow spilled in as soon as they shoved the door open. The frame cracked in protest, but as far as Harlock could tell, the structure wasn’t going to cave in on them.

For better or worse, there were no occupants. Harlock guessed it was made for situations like this, simply to hold travelers over for the night. There were a few chairs scattered about, a table, a bed without a mattress, a couple of blankets eaten through with holes from one creature or another, and a pile of wood.

“I hate ice planets,” Daiba said. He tugged at the corner of a blanket and inspected it as though the whole thing might be infected.

“I thought they’d be your favorite,” Kei said as she righted one of the fallen chairs. “No Mazone can survive here.”

Harlock decided to step in before they started arguing again. “This will do for the night. I’ll get the fire going.” He pulled off his cape and wadded it into a makeshift cushion on the table before setting Mii-kun on it. The little cat hunkered down in the fabric, tail covering his frozen nose.

“Why’d he come with us?” Daiba asked. “Could have frozen his tail off in a place like this.”

“He just tags along when the captain or doctor leave the ship sometimes,” Kei said. “He might have just been interested in the snow when there wasn’t much of it.”

Harlock couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a real fireplace. After tossing the logs in, he stared at it, frowning. He’d built a few fires with Tochiro, but he’d never been the one to light them. After scratching his head, he pulled out his gun and shot the wood.

Daiba cursed in surprise. Kei threw her captain a disapproving glare. Mii-kun stood on all fours, every hair standing on end. As the fire crackled to life, Harlock reached over and pet Mii-kun’s fur back into place. “Didn’t have anything else to start it with,” he muttered.

Harlock wasn’t surprised the ship never came looking for them, or even a search party. The men were likely not feeling up to wandering aimlessly in a blizzard. In hindsight, Harlock realized he should have brought a communicator. But they were alright. The cold haunted the edges of the cabin, so Kei and Daiba took chairs on each side of the fire, each wrapped in a musty blanket as they dozed. While the boards around them creaked in anxiety from the wind, the fire crackled with lazy assurance.

Harlock placed his chair in front of the fire, watching its shadows flash across the walls. When the shadows grew, he poked at the logs with the metal prod to reignite the tiring flames. No time for sleep. He needed to keep the fire going.

Mii-kun butted up against his leg with a meowed greeting before winding back and forth across his feet. “Better now?” Harlock asked with a smile. He reached down to scoop the cat up with one hand. “Zero will be upset if you wind up with frostbite, but I’ll be the one taking the fall for it. The only person who ever gets mad at you is Masu.”

Mii-kun walked in circles over Harlock’s legs until he found what must have been the best spot to curl into a ball. Harlock took off his glove to run his hand down silky fur of the little cat’s back. The answering purr rumbled like an idling motor.

“Have you ever seen a fireplace before?” Harlock asked as though he might get an answer. “You’ve been on the ship so long, but then again, so have I. Can’t remember the last time I saw a working fireplace either.”

Of course, Mii-kun didn’t look concerned with this, and Harlock smiled as he realized how trivial it really was. Cats probably preferred sitting on the heated consoles of a ship anyway. And Mii-kun never lacked for sake, despite Masu’s attempts.

The contented ball of a cat rolled over in his lap, batting at his hand. “I suppose I don’t approve of you tagging along this round,” Harlock said. “But I do appreciate the company.” He pet the lighter fur of the cat’s belly until claws and teeth put an end to it, latching onto his hand. “Hey-hey,” he scolded. Mii-kun didn’t let go until the hand tugged out of reach. His tail whipped with the new interest of play, round pupils shining with the fire’s reflection.

Despite all logic telling him otherwise, Harlock dangled his hand back within range and batted the little paws in return until they managed to snag him. With a smile, he scratched under Mii-kun’s chin despite the claws holding him. Wild eyes calmed for a moment as the cat pressed his face into Harlock’s fingers. Then Mii-kun bit them, not quite hard enough to break skin.

“How am I supposed to live up to my reputation as a fearsome pirate when you make it difficult for me to stay mad?” Harlock sighed.


	3. Frost (CWZ/AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harlock/Zero in a Speed Racer AU.  
> I don't know. Don't ask me. I didn't make up this prompt.

Harlock always won. It wasn’t because he was a better driver than me. It was because Tochiro had inhuman skills when it came to building cars. Not to say Harlock wasn’t a good driver, because he technically was in his own absurd death-wish sort of way.

But that didn’t make him a good person. He was an ass.

At the end of another second place finish, I opted to stay in the car while Harlock presumably trounced his way around the winner’s stage. With my forehead pressed into the steering wheel, I basked in the drone of the car’s heater. Every window was fogged over with a mist of condensation. Today was too cold for a race, but there had to be a natural disaster before the officials would even consider cancelling. The track wasn’t made with the foresight of icy weather, and the slick roads made for a death trap of a race. Over half the competition spun out.

As the pit crew worked on packing up, I dozed off against the steering wheel. The passenger door slamming shut jolted me awake, a blast of icy air coming along with it. As I sorted out who and where I was through shaking my head and blinking, Harlock barked a laugh. “There is a big red imprint across your forehead, you know,” he snickered.

I turned to glare my disapproval of him, rubbing at the dent the steering wheel left. “Why are you in my car?”

His eyes wandered as he considered the question, frowning. “Your door was unlocked,” he decided with a shrug.

I would have to remember to keep that locked from now on. “If you’re going to gloat, I’d prefer you got it over with,” I said.

A grin crept onto his features. “I would never. After all, silver looks better on you than gold. And with all those crashes today, I’m just happy you’re not dead.” His hand came down to smack my shoulder as if congratulating me on surviving. I wasn’t sure how happy I felt about it, but I wasn’t going to argue with him on it.

He bit the tip of his glove to pull it off, just above his middle finger. As he reached out toward my front window, the glove dropped to his lap. Like any child in a car with frosted windows, he began tracing his finger through the mist to carve out some picture. I didn’t quite trust his artistic decisions. “If you draw dicks on my car window, Harlock, I swear to God.”

He laughed, always bright and short like some sort of trickster. “I’m not that immature, Zero.”

Debatable.

He did draw an arrow pointing to me. The tail led to the words he so carefully wrote backwards so they were readable from the other side. “2nd place! Almost like a winner!”

“Thank you,” I said, with all the enthusiasm of an almost winner. In return, I took off my glove and drew an arrow to him with the label of “1st place asshole.” He snickered, probably because he knew I was right.

Between our new titles, he traced out a lopsided heart with an arrow sticking through it like the ones couples carved into trees. “1st & 2nd” went in the heart, Harlock smirking as per usual.

“About as much as I love crashing into walls,” I muttered.

“Everyone loves crashing into walls,” he said. “You ought to let me drive us out to a nice, secluded spot-”

“You’re not driving my car,” I said before he could finish whatever perverted fantasies were filling his head. I was more concerned with the safety of my car, anyway. Harlock’s reckless driving was like putting a 10 year-old at the steering wheel.

He jotted down more beside my arrow so that “Almost like a winner!” was concluded with “Except not fun.”

“Well if we can’t have sex, the next best thing is getting breakfast,” he said. “I want pancakes.” Considering the stars hanging in the sky, I guessed he wanted one of those 24-hour breakfast joints. They always seemed a little seedy, but it was hard to complain with breakfast at ten o’clock.  

I started the engine back up with a roar and flicked on the defrosters. “I think pancakes are better than sex,” I said. Without his seatbelt, Harlock leaned himself across me to write my exact words on my window.

He was grinning when he plopped back into his seat, so proud of himself. “Now everyone will know where your heart lies.”

“Thank you,” I said again as I pressed the button to roll the window down and wipe away the message.


	4. Cider (CWZ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CWZ-verse; Harlock and Tochiro get drunk.

As soon as Harlock’s glass hit his lips, his brows pinched together. He lowered the drink, eyes narrowed in on it like it wronged him somehow. “This is not bourbon,” he said.

“Well, duh.” I cocked my thumb to the bottle I’d just poured it from. I figured the big letters across the label reading “Cider” would have tipped him off. “Why else would I have warmed it up?”

He wrinkled his nose, swirling the amber drink around the glass. One hand rested on his ankle, his boots off to the side as we sat on the apartment floor. “It’s fruity,” he said.

“Well, it’s made from apples.” He was such a stickler when it came to alcohol. Anything that wasn’t hard liquor or wine was hardly worth drinking in his mind. “But it’ll still get you wasted as good as anything. Come on, we’ve got a ton.”

He took another sip, still not satisfied with the sweetness of it. “How much?” he asked, practically begging for it to be just a couple bottles.

I couldn’t help but grin. “The men got us four gallons. They know how much it takes to get you drunk.” Thanks to my stature, I didn’t have the same constitution, but Harlock downed his drinks like they were shots. We tended to end up drunk at the same time.

“It’s like drinking a martini or a daiquiri or something,” he huffed. Rolling to his back, he reached into the cabinet to fish out the square bottle. “I’ll mix it with bourbon.”

I wasn’t sure how appetizing that would be, but whatever loosened him up. “You’re such an alcoholic,” I said.

“I am the king of alcoholics!” he retorted proudly as he poured one amber liquid into the other. Then he downed the glass in one go.

“How is it?”

He shrugged. “It would be better without the apple taste. I don’t see the appeal of fruity drinks.”

I imagined it was because they didn’t taste like death. “Harlock,” I said, “you drink wine all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” He refilled his glass with the mixture and nodded as he drank it.

“It’s made from grapes.” I tilted my own glass back. Sure, it wasn’t quite sake, but it warmed my gut all the same. The spiced sweet mixture was good, even if Harlock refused to admit it. With each drink, he put less bourbon in. Either the taste was growing on him, or he was getting too drunk to notice.

By the time he grabbed the glass bottle and started drinking straight from it, I figured we were both drunk. Some of the drink slipped from his mouth to his chin and dripped to his uniform. He sure didn’t seem to care. “Okay-okay,” he slurred as he smacked the bottle back to the floor. “But hear me out. We could put a bar on the ship.”

Even though I was sitting, I felt unsteady. The world swam like we were on the ocean. “Why not just have, like, a wine cellar?” I asked.

“What part of a ship is the cellar?” he muttered as he lifted the bottle back to his lips.

“Good question.”

I was still thinking the conundrum over when he spoke again. “You know what’s gross?”

I had a guess. He’d asked five times. “Cider?”

“Cider,” he said with a nod. “But also,  _also_  Zero is gross.” He snickered like he’d come up with something clever.

“We should have invited him,” I said.

“Well, dang, if I wanted someone gloomy and nagging hanging around, I would have just invited…” He paused, trying to think of someone like the Independent. “Would have invited Zero,” he finally decided.

I nodded in agreement. “Should have invited him.”

“I don’t want him hanging around!” He smashed his fist into the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. Then he smacked the top of my head a few times. “You are my best friend. We don’t need anyone else.”

I fell to my back without meaning to, but I liked lying down better anyway. “What… What about the crew?”

Harlock waved his hand like he was swatting a bug. “Nah. We’re good. We can-” He tilted the bottle back before it reached his mouth and poured cider all down his front. “Aww, dammit, I was gonna drink that.”

I broke into a fit of cackles, tears welling up in my eyes as Harlock whined about how it wasn’t funny. When the door slid open, I rolled my head over to find Emeraldas standing there. “We didn’t invite you,” Harlock huffed.

“I did,” I said. Gosh, she was pretty. So pretty, even when she looked a little irritated.

“You weren’t supposed to invite other people!” Harlock howled.

I didn’t remember us making a rule like that. Actually, I thought I told him I invited her. “We had so much cider though,” I said.

“Yes, you two clearly had plenty of alcohol,” Emeraldas drawled. “I’ll take this back then.”

Harlock’s eyes locked on the bottle of wine in her hand. For a minute, he just spluttered nonsense. “Wait, you can stay!” he finally managed.

Emeraldas cocked a brow. “No really, that’s alright.”

“We can put it in the ship’s wine cellar,” I said. “We’re gonna have one and- and a bar and like fifty cannons. I’m gonna build so many cannons. Oh-oh! And I want, like, a huge retractable knife in the front. We’re gonna stab the other ships.”

Harlock’s eyes widened, and he started bouncing in place. “Yes! We can ram them! It will be so cool! And I want a big wooden steering wheel, so I can spin it when I stab the other ships.”

“These are really good ideas.” I nodded. “I need to write these down.”

“Alright, you two have fun then,” Emeraldas said with a roll of her eyes as she waved us off.

“We gotta have another big skull on the front too,” I said.

“So the big knife comes out of the skull’s face.” Harlock fell on his back, arms splayed out above him. “We will be so cool.”


	5. Cold Hands (999)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meowdar is an actual cat person. Tetsuro is his boyfriend.

Humans had so many strange inventions Tetsuro spent a portion of each day explaining one or another to me. Many didn’t make sense. What was the difference between a pet and an adopted family member? Who thought up this system with money? Why wear shorts under pants?

Gloves were different, possibly the best invention humans created. My home planet never reached temperatures low enough to make me shiver, but I never felt completely warm on my new home. Even huddled against Tetsuro, my ears suffered against the ice tingeing the air. Sleeping without boots on invited numb toes by morning. Gloves were the only thing keeping my fingers from stiff, aching joints at all times. They ensured I could fire a gun in a surprise attack.

Tetsuro appeared better adjusted for the cold. He didn’t complain when I buried my chilled nose against his neck, and he only shivered on the coldest of nights. While I refused to go out in the snow, it didn’t bother him in the least, even when it swallowed his feet.

“I think it was colder on Earth,” he said when I asked. “Definitely colder on Pluto.” A shudder tore through him like some unpleasant memory.

I didn’t know of a Pluto, but he visited for more planets than me. I took his word for it.

At night we shared a ratty, worn blanket. Patches were rough and scratchy from overuse, but it was better than nothing. It helped to share body heat. With winter in full swing, the snow reached my waist. It was bitterly cold, freezing every joint stiff. The air tasted so thin even breathing took effort. My lungs ached with each icy intake of oxygen. Despite my exhaustion, the cold kept me awake.

I scooted down to hide completely under the blanket and pressed my face into Tetsuro’s chest. He made his shirt just as warm as the red coloring promised to be. “What are you doing?” he slurred. Even the smallest of movements woke him, but he fell back asleep just as easily.

“It is cold,” I said. “You are warm.”

“Am I?” he asked with honest curiosity. “That’s good.” His hand slipped up to brush through my hair. The soft circles of his fingers were sluggish from the tug of sleep. Nuzzling my face into his chest, I let my chest vibrate, lovingly rumbling for him.

He breathed a laugh. “You didn’t tell me you could purr.”

“Is that what you call it? I didn’t think humans could.”

“We can’t, but…never mind.” He twirled strands of hair around his fingers. Somehow, his touch wasn’t cold against my scalp. I wondered if my hands were not as outwardly cold as they felt and pried my gloves off of my near-petrified hands.

“I need new gloves,” I said. My nails were about to wear out the fingertips of the leather. “You should get some warm ones for me.” If his hands were any indication, he was warm, so I slipped my hands up beneath his shirt front.

“Why can’t you get your own gloves? Besides, I don’t know if you could use anything but leather. Your claws tear through-.” As my fingers touched his stomach, he squeaked like he’d been attacked without warning.

“You are ice!” he hissed.

“You are warm,” I said again, pressing my palms to his skin. He stiffened as though my touch froze him.

“We need to get you some warm gloves,” he sighed. “My stomach was not made for this kind of abuse.”

I did the “purr” for him again, nudging my head up under his chin. “I will adjust then,” I said. I slipped one hand under him, one hand over and pulled him close, with the heat of his back now warming my fingers. “Better?”

“Good enough.” He patted the back of my head and yawned. “Get to sleep.”

"Alright." With him as a heater, I could manage it. 


	6. Snow (CWZ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Karyuu kiddos play around in the snow.

The captain must have done some impressive bartering with the chairwoman to ensure we were stationed on Earth during the holidays. When we touched down, the men thanked him through tentative smiles before rushing off to meet with their families. The few of us remaining could at least understand his glowering, even if we didn’t share it.

“Lighten up, Captain,” Grenadier said as he smacked Zero’s back. I winced for him. “Weather report says it’s snowing, so we should at least head out and see it.”

Snowing, just like back home. “We are on vacation,” I said. “We shouldn’t spend it on the ship.”

“If the first officer of all people is telling us we can get off the ship, I figure we should take the opportunity,” Unabara said. Grenadier shared his grin, but I didn’t appreciate the joke. It didn’t appear to faze the captain, chin in his palm as he glared down at his console.

After letting silence hold the air for a breath, he finally sighed, as if signaling his defeat. “Right, we can go out to eat or something.” He removed his hat to run his hand through his hair. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

I was about to get onto him, when Grenadier jumped in. “You don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. Hell, I’m sober sometimes, and it’s not all that bad.” He threw me a winning smile, and I glared in return.

“Don’t antagonize Marina,” the captain sighed, though his expression cracked into a tired smile. When he stood, the three of us followed, out to the frosted city. Snow blanketed the world in comforting, quiet white. The gray skies felt nostalgic instead of gloomy. I didn’t feel cold, not like I could in the past, but the boys did as soon as we set foot outside the hangar.

“I lived on a desert planet too long,” Grenadier said, kicking snow out from underfoot. “I forgot what a pain this stuff was.”

“Should have brought a better jacket,” Unabara said with a shudder.

The captain didn’t appear to mind. Hands jammed in his pockets, he watched the sky or perhaps the little puffs of flakes coming down. They clung to his hat and shoulders. It lasted until Grenadier smacked a snowball into the back of his head. The captain stumbled forward and without his hands to catch him, fell face-first into the snow.

“Ten points!” Grenadier chimed.

Zero pushed himself up and turned on his navigator in a huff. “You don’t get any points for hitting someone in the back! That’s cowardly.” Grabbing a handful of snow, he packed it into a ball.

“Says the person who pretended to pass out from a shot to the arm,” Grenadier muttered as he scooped up snow as well.

“You two aren’t actually going to have a snowball fight right now, are you?” I asked. “Weren’t we going to go eat?”

Grenadier reached over my head and smacked the snowball down on top of it. “You need to lighten up too, missy,” he said.

Clumps of snow covered my hair and shoulders. I was about to break a few of his toes with my heel when another snowball hit him in the face. “Ten points,” Zero mocked.

Unabara took a few steps back, saying something about how he was too old for this. I imagined we were all too old for this, but that didn’t stop me from packing together my own ammunition. Grenadier had to pay.

“Two against one isn’t fair,” he said as he found his captain and first officer glaring him down.

Zero shrugged. “Maybe you should have thought this through then.”

“Lighten up,” I said just before launching a snowball at his ear.

We arrived at the restaurant soaked to the bone. The captain’s hair stuck to his cheeks, my uniform was wrinkled all over, and Grenadier’s boots sloshed with each step. Unabara looked out of place in our group, still mostly dry.

Sure, we looked ridiculous, a bunch of adults ordering a round of drinks despite our appearances. But Zero’s eyes shone with childish amusement as he pried his soaked gloves off. His reddened nose wrinkled as he laughed. It was by-far the best we could have hoped for, all of us loners stuck together.


	7. Ice Skating (GR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce/Manabu and really bad skating.

It was either too late at night or too early in the morning when Bruce grabbed my shoulder and shook me awake. “There’s no one out at the lake now,” he said.

I dragged my face from the warmth of my pillow. Despite our heater’s best attempts, the dorms were chilled from the snow outside. Getting out of bed or a warm shower took more willpower than a hard day of training.

After a minute of groggily blinking myself back to the world of the living, Bruce’s words registered. The lake on Destiny Station’s grounds was a new attraction for all off duty SDF members since the onslaught of snow and freezing temperatures iced it over. Why Bruce took interest in it while I was trying to sleep, well, I didn’t really care. “Jeez, Bruce it’s-” I threw a glance at the clock, “-five in the morning. We can go to the lake in a few hours.”

He flicked on my lights, so bright I dropped my face back into the pillow with a hiss. Again, he shook my shoulder. “There will be people there in a few hours,” he said. “You were the one who wanted to go skating. I’m not going to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone, so this is the only time I’ll do it.”

“Don’t have any skates,” I growled, muffled by the pillow. I did want to go skating with him, but at a time when my eyes weren’t stinging from the early wake up call.

“I went through the trouble of borrowing some for us,” he said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed. “Get dressed. We’re going.”

I swung my feet under me before my face could meet the floor. This didn’t make sense. He was the one who’d refused to go skating, so I wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about it now. But I was already awake, so I pulled on my best winter clothes – white wool gloves and the navy jacket for cold assignments. I never bought any casual winter clothes, and neither did Bruce, so we matched.

Outside, the night’s snowfall left the ground pristine. Our crunching steps made the first tracks of the day. Bruce walked ahead, skates bouncing at his shoulders while I traced every footprint he left. The icy air felt like an unending slap, so it was hard to feel tired. The skyline was dotted with the lights of early risers, skyscrapers mirroring the fading stars. “It’s pretty out this early,” I said, hopping between Bruce’s footprints.

He glanced around for any sign of another soul and shrugged. “I guess.” He always was a barrel of fun.

The benches by the lake were covered in snow, so we brushed them clean before tugging on our borrowed skates. Bruce laced mine up so tight I wasn’t sure I had circulation. “Alright,” he sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

When I first asked if we could go skating, he said he’d never set foot in skates before, and it was a terrible idea. I retorted that I’d never been skating either, so it probably was a terrible idea. I didn’t care. I would have fun with it anyway.

Bruce waddled to his feet, and I followed with my ankles wobbling under me. “This would have been better if we had people around to tell us what to do,” I said.

“If I’m going to fall on my face, I’m not going to do it in front of anyone,” he snapped. Once he managed to land both feet on the ice, he stood perfectly still, eyes locked on his feet in concentration. I placed one foot on the ice and pushed off with the other. My nice, two-second glide cut off when I plowed into him.

We both grabbed hold of each other’s clothes to keep upright, but we pulled each other down instead. Bruce landed on his butt, while I fell on my knees in his lap. The sheer irritation on his face was enough to leave me in a fit of giggles.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he said.

I used his shoulder to steady myself as I stood. “We’ve haven’t even been at it a minute. Come on, we never had a good frozen pond on Tabito.”

Once I felt balanced, I offered him a hand, and he took it with another sigh. “You make my life difficult.”

“That’s because you’re a difficult person,” I said. “Don’t know how to have fun.” I tugged him up until my feet slipped out from under me. What breath didn’t leave my lungs from my back hitting the ice flew out when Bruce fell on top of me.

“Is this your idea of having fun?” he wheezed before rolling off of me. Neither of us made a move to get up, flat on our backs.

“Told you we should have gotten help,” I said, unable to hold back another laugh.

“How am I supposed to take you on some romantic skating date if we’re surrounded by people laughing at us for our inability to skate?” I looked over to find him pouting at the sky. I had a feeling this date idea came from someone else. He always stressed about finding something I’d like.

Behind the skyscrapers, the sky tinged pink with the sunrise. I reached over and grabbed his hand.  “See? A sunrise has to give you points for being romantic. And we haven’t fallen in yet, so that’s something.”

He sighed but held my hand in return. “How are we going to get off of here without falling again? I’m already sore.”

“We’re about two feet from the bank,” I said. “We can probably roll over there.”

But he didn’t move, and neither did I. With the frozen, sleepy morning and the night sky fading out, I felt so secluded just lying there with him. As I listened to him breathe and held his hand, I wondered how such a mess of a date could feel like the most romantic one he’d ever taken me on.


	8. Socks (CWZ/AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This request was for Harlock and Zero in a college AU with no Christmas themes.

Whoever decided to make the floors of the dorm halls linoleum made a poor choice. The boys of my floor found a way to entertain themselves with it, just like with anything else. Their howls and cheers drowned out the irritated tapping of my pen. There were only two more days until break, but it looked like the brats couldn’t manage to wait that long.

If I didn’t get onto them, Marina would, and they wouldn’t get off so easily. Slamming my textbook shut, I stormed out of my room. I turned the corner, ready to get onto my hall with a sharply-worded lecture. Instead, Harlock slammed into me like he’d decided to practice football tackles with me as the target. His weight dropped me to my back, while he cackled like a hyena on top of me. I should have guessed this was entirely his fault. It always was.

“Sorry, Zero,” he said with a grin as he hopped up. Against my better judgment, I took the hand he offered to help me to my feet. Some of the boys crowding the hall glanced between each other, hopefully reconsidering their actions now that their R.A. appeared.

“You want to join us?” Harlock asked, hands shoved in his jacked pockets. He always stood the same way, as though he owned everything around him but didn’t care. He was my least favorite resident.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” I said, “but you know we’re on quiet hours all day because of finals. You’re all being too loud for the people trying to study, and you need to break this up.”

Harlock’s lazy stance didn’t waver, so the rest of the boys remained in place, as if waiting for a sign from their gang leader. “We’ve been studying and stressing over tests all day,” Harlock said. “We’re doing something to unwind. It’s good for our brains. Destressor or something.”

Despite the rest of the boys nodding to back him up, he was clearly pulling all this out of his ass. “What _are_ you doing?” I asked in cold disinterest. They didn’t appear to have any toys or objects of any kind, but they were all missing shoes. I was too, but I hadn’t bothered to put them on just to get onto my residents.

That usual smug grin flashed onto Harlock’s face. “You want a go? We greased the floor.”

I felt my eyes narrow and forced myself to exhale calmly. One of these days, I would snap because of Harlock, but today was not it. “You greased the floors, so you could slide around on them?” I asked, putting weight to every word.

The boys in the back started to sweat, but Harlock remained ever unfazed. “It’s fun.” He nodded. “You should give it a go. You look like you need to relieve some stress.”

All my stress stemmed from him, so getting rid of him would be the only way to solve my problems. “I think I’ll get you all some sponges and soapy water instead.”

“We’ve upset the dorm mom,” Harlock called over his shoulder. Then his hand clamped down on my jacket sleeve. He took two quick steps down the hall, my feet slipping against the floor despite my attempts to ground my heels in. He stopped just to throw me forward like a bowling ball. Trying to stop would have landed me on my back again, so I threw my hands out for balance and slid until I smacked into the crowd at the end of the hall. They caught me with a cheer.

“I’m going to write all of you up,” I sighed.

“Come on, mom, you can’t write us all up,” Harlock said. All the boys around me agreed, begging and whining for me to just let them have their fun. Harlock ran forward before sliding along with a slight spin. Of course, he ran directly into me again, his back butting against my chest. Big brown eyes with the fakest pleading puppy-dog stare I’d ever seen turned back to me. “I don’t see how it’s a problem if everyone is having fun.”

“It is a problem if you get me fired. Even worse if I fail my history exam.”

He reached up to pat my cheek. “You’ll do fine. Now, all together!” His gang gave a rallying cry, and I realized I might as well turn in my resignation as the stampede dragged me along.

I should have put on my boots. Then I could have at least kicked Harlock for my troubles. 


	9. Hot Chocolate (CWZ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today has been really busy, so this little thing was the best I could do. Karyuu kiddos have a traditional holiday treat.

“Captain,” Marina said as she frowned at her mug. “I have a hunch the Machine Men were the only ones on cooking duty today.”

I snorted. “You think? Well, I give them props for trying.” My usual black mug was piping hot to the touch, so warm I could feel it through my gloves. I tried to raise it to my mouth again, but before I could even scald my tongue, the sickeningly sweet smell made me lower it again. It was enough to make my stomach turn.

Had this been real hot chocolate, and had Marina not been standing next to me, I could have mixed in some alcohol. The sweetness of it would probably still make me feel heavy and nauseous for a while, but it would have been more bearable.

Technically, this was hot chocolate. The Machine Men chefs followed the recipe of the title to a T. Now everyone on the bridge was stuck with a mug full of melted milk chocolate. It seemed like a good idea to ask for it at first, at least to the rest of the boys.

“It’ll be festive, Captain,” and “It’ll be nostalgic,” they said. Now they were all frowning at their drinks just like Marina.

“I didn’t know we had this much chocolate,” Ishikura murmured.

“Is it safe to drink this?” Grenadier asked.

“I imagine it will be once it isn’t molten hot,” I said. “I’m just not sure everyone having a sugar rush all at once is a good idea.” Instead of a sugar rush, I was more likely to be stuck throwing up until all the repulsive sweetness was gone.

“Do we actually have to drink it?” Grenadier asked.

I twisted the mug to watch the thick syrup roll around. Trails of steam rolled from the top, but I attempted another sip. My eyes shut tight as a shudder tore through me, but I didn’t taste anything beyond the searing heat. Once it was down and all my taste buds were thoroughly burned off, I set the mug on the console in front of me. “If we happen to _accidentally_  leave them sitting for too long, they’ll harden when they cool, right?”

Marina nodded, setting hers down next to mine. “That would be a shame,” she said. I imagined she was just content because I didn’t mix in any bourbon.

The men all followed suit, except Rai, who seemed content with his drink. I wasn’t looking forward to him bouncing off the walls and begging to shoot at something.

I ran my singed tongue over my teeth, where some of the chocolate stuck. I could taste it now, so sweet my toes curled and a ground my teeth together. “Next time you boys want your hot chocolate fix, go make it yourselves,” I sighed. “Or let me make it, so I can spike it.”

“Captain,” Marina scolded as I fought back a laugh.


	10. Terrible Sweaters (SBY)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a request for an OC drabble for this prompt, so I had to do two, with this as the second one.  
> Daisuke/Susumu with presents and training and things.

Some trainees never got mail or packages, and we all knew why. We never talked about it, but I had a feeling that group hated those of us who did get mail. I couldn’t blame them.

The latest mail call was the worst. With the unending string of Christmas packages flying to the usual group, the gloom of the rest hung like a strangling fog. Susumu stood beside me, smiling through the disappointment in his eyes. My family couldn’t send much. None of our families could, but it was better than nothing.

I thought I was hearing things when Susumu’s name held the air. He didn’t react, eyes glazed over until a box sailed into his gut. It fell to his feet, and he stared at it like it sprouted wings in front of him. “Kodai,” the officer repeated with the harsh irritation common to everyone in the higher levels. “That’s yours.”

Susumu picked it up, awed by its existence. “Huh, it’s from Mamoru,” he said at the sight of the return address. “I guess he’s on leave. Probably won’t be by the time we get a break.” Despite his gift, Susumu still looked disappointed. He walked back to the room with the box tucked under his arm, his fingers drumming against the cardboard. By the time the door to our meager dorm slid open, he rushed to sit on the bottom bunk and rip the box open.

“What do you think it is?” I asked with a grin. “Porn?”

He waved my words away. “I hope not. Brother has terrible taste in porn.”

I didn’t expect him to take the question seriously, but it did make me wonder if I would ever let my little brother anywhere near porn. No, definitely not. Not even when he was 18.

Though his brows were drawn in concentration, Susumu’s eyes began to brighten in anticipation. I hadn’t seen him this excited in ages. He really did remind me of a little kid tearing open presents on Christmas morning. It was just a few days too early for that, and the box had no wrapping paper.

A slew of emotions crossed his face once the box was thoroughly shredded. Surprise morphed to confusion, followed by irritation and an exaggerated eye-roll. “He’s such an ass,” Susumu huffed as he pulled out what appeared to be a neatly folded mass of hideous fabric. Once he rolled it out, I recognized it as a sweater, covered in Christmas designs. Snowflakes, reindeer, different colored lights and ornaments – the fuzzy monstrosity had it all.

I slapped a hand across my mouth to hold back my snickering. “You have to try it on at least,” I muttered through my fingers.

With a sigh, he draped it over his shoulder and fished an envelope out of the box. The letter inside made him no more thrilled than the sweater. “’Dearest little brother,’” he read mockingly. “’When I saw these, I had to get them for you and your boyfriend. I know they’ll fit perfectly. You can wear them around base when it gets cold.’ Goddamn asshole.”

“These?” I echoed. He pulled a matching one from the box to throw my way. Suddenly this was less funny. “When did you tell him we started dating?” He was on a mission when that happened, so…

Susumu shrugged. “I didn’t. He’s been calling you that for the past year or so.” His eyes rolled from me to the sweater in my hands. “Are you going to try that on?”

A smile wormed across my lips. “I will if you do, but I’m not wearing it out there.”

“Deal.”

The sweaters were too big, flopping out over our hands and baggy around our middles. As ugly as the things were, Susumu looked undeniably cute in his. My pinched brow couldn’t hold back the blush burning my face at the sight of him. Maybe because I blushed, his cheeks burned pink too. “They’re warm, at least,” he murmured, eyes wandering to his feet.

I walked over to sit beside him and put my arms around his middle. “We look so stupid,” I said, though he also looked cute, and it made me lean my cheek against his shoulder.

“We do,” he said, his cheek resting against my head. “We’re the stupidest.”


	11. Scarf (CWZ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zero's boring missions leave him with too much free time. Harlock has too much free time to begin with.

We ran into the Karyū on the strangest planets, places I never expected Zero to so much as glance at. His latest venture landed him on one of our resupply stops. The whole place lived off farming and agriculture, each hemisphere trading between production in the summer and distribution in the winter. Because Zero stopped on the winter side in the same city as us, I hoped he wasn’t arresting our supplier. Giving food to pirates wasn’t  _that_  illegal.

Instead, we found a handful of the crew surrounding a packing facility. Their red uniforms dotted the gray walls, most of them sitting and yawning. Some fell asleep, bundled in blankets to keep the biting winds away.

“What’s with the Independents and that factory?” I asked our supplier, who looked slightly more drunk than usual.

“The red shirt guys?” she asked through a slur. “That’s the Earth’s main source of processing grains or something while they’re rebuilding the factories there, and someone broke in and messed with some machinery a couple weeks ago. The red-shirts showed up, but since all evidence leads to a group of kids just screwing around, no one figures there’ll be anymore problems.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Zero’s misfortune. The government sent him on the most useless little missions at times. But just like any loyal dog, he followed every order. And as we headed back for the ship, I spotted a splash of yellow against the gray. I told Tochiro I’d catch up and to not leave without me before running over to the factory.

By this time, the black sky hung heavily overhead, factory lights drowning out the stars. The head guard dog looked just as bored as his men, but as I neared, I noticed him fiddling with something. Other than a quick glance to check my identity, he kept his eyes on the strip of black cloth or something hanging from his hands.

“Having fun?” I called.

His voice was dry with all the enthusiasm I’d come to expect from him. “I was,” he said. Finally, I neared enough to see the twin metal sticks in his hands and the string of yarn stemming from a basket beside his chair.

My brows shot up. “You can knit?”

His hands paused as he looked up to me, then down to the near-finished scarf touching the tops of his boots. “No,” he said at length, before starting up again to show that he was done talking.

Because he was clearly not in the mood to deal with me, it was important for me to stick around. Someone needed to cheer the old dog up. “Your boys seem bored,” I said. “If you want, I could try breaking in so they have something to do.”

The corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile. I considered it a victory. “Harlock, I have two pointy metal objects besides my saber that I could easily shove through your gut, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to break in. If you so much as breathe on any of that equipment, my boss will have my head.”

My head tilted as I watched the seamless, repetitive movement of his gloved hands. One row appeared right after the other. The scarf must have grown half a foot since I arrived. “You don’t seem all that worried about protecting it,” I said.

“Well when you find someone who actually cares about messing up a grain factory who isn’t under fifteen years-old, you let me know, and I’ll start worrying.”

The Earth government freaked over every little detail and may have been the most paranoid group in the galaxy. Zero, not so much. That was part of why I found his work so amusing. “How long are you stuck here?” I asked.

His brow furrowed, and his eyes rolled up in thought, but his hands kept spinning yarn like clockwork. “What day is it? Wednesday? We’ll be relieved Monday.”

“It’s Thursday,” I said, but he just shrugged. It looked like the scarf was about finished, the end of the yarn trailing up as he pulled each loop from one needle. “So how many of those have you made?” I asked, peering into his yarn basket. Balls of every color filled it on one side, folded scarves on the other. Seemed more like a cat’s paradise than a dog’s.

“Too many,” he grumbled as he pulled out a pocket knife to cut the extra string. “Most of the boys don’t want one, because they say they can handle the cold without them. I guess they just feel weird since I made them.” He smiled at that, shaking his head. “But since you’re here, I guess you can do me a favor.”

Standing, he grabbed the finished stack from the basket and handed them to me. The black one he wound around my neck and face until it covered my eyes. “Perfect,” he said, the warmth of a smile in his voice. “I know you run across a lot of kids in sorry states, so give them those for me if you would.”

“Is that a rumor about me now?” Though it was true, I wasn’t sure I wanted Zero to know about it. I had to be a tough, cocky pirate, or he would go all soft on me.

“Okay,” he sighed. A plastic sarcasm covered his voice. “If you  _happen_  to see any kids who may want one, have one of your  _nicer_  crewman give them one.” The weight of his hands pressed on my shoulders to turn me around. “Now get out of here before I arrest you, you pirate bastard.” A light shove against my back prompted me forward, and I pulled the black scarf down from my eyes as I headed out. I had to admit, they were cozy.


	12. Snowmen (CWZ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zero's crewmen are mean. They're mean in a loving way, but they're mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I was on a family trip, so I had very limited access to the computer. I'll put out two drabbles for the next few days so I can catch up.

Despite what Marina professed in her rants, productivity aboard the ship did not always come to a standstill. Every time she paced the length of my room, I reminded her how the men took their jobs seriously and missions generally went off without a hitch.

But sometimes the men made it difficult for me to stand up for them. As the bay doors opened, a blast of snow and thin, chilled air greeted me like a slap to the face. I nabbed the brim of my hat before it could fly off, while the lift lowered me into the planet’s snowy surface. Though it was far from an ideal stop for repairs, the hole punched through our hull left us little room to be picky. The sooner we fixed it, the sooner we could head out to the next mission, which was exactly why the men were stalling.

I heard them before I saw them, laughter carried along by the wind. Their footsteps crunched in the snow while they tossed jokes back and forth like snowballs. I spotted them scattered across the ground, rolling snow into what appeared to be pieces for the dozen snowmen added to their ranks. Not one of them worked on patching the hole. They were all too busy having fun. I wasn’t sure I could fault them for that.

I walked over to them, hands stuffed in my pockets to keep feelings in my fingers. The snow swallowed my feet until I reached the circle the men carved out from rolling it up. The base of each snowman reached my hip or higher. Those with heads stood taller than Grenadier, who appeared to be the leader of this whole operation. He barked orders to the rest, directing them in their task. From what I could see, each snowman followed a pre-planned format. Each face, thrown together with spare pieces, had a unique expression. One had eyebrows made from electrical tape. Another sported a mustache with the help of a few wires. I couldn’t say they weren’t creative.

But productivity was definitely at a standstill. I strode over to Grenadier, looked up to him, and waited for an explanation. He took little notice of me at first, only turning my way when he realized I wasn’t moving. “Need something, Captain?” he asked as though nothing abnormal was happening around us.

“I do need that hole fixed,” I said, tilting my head toward the damage. “I’d prefer it was done before the ship fills with snow.”

He smiled and shrugged it off. “Ah, it’ll melt.”

At this rate I could already hear Marina grumbling an “I told you so.” I heard that from her enough without this incidence to help.

“Look,” I sighed. “I’m glad you’re all having fun, but if we don’t get going soon, our bosses will be chewing me out for an explanation. I am too sober right now to deal with the chairwoman and Marina telling me off.”

“So Marina counts as one of your bosses?” he asked with a grin. Before I could find the words to shut him up, he turned his attentions back to the men. “Make sure to put angry eyebrows on the captain’s too.” I turned back to look only for a burst of wind to blow through my hair. Frantic, I grasped for my hat and spun around to find it in Grenadier’s hand. “And since he’s here, we can put this on it too,” he said. “We still need a carrot or something for his nose though.”

None of the other snowmen had anything resembling carrot noses. I placed my hand across my face to cover the blush heating up my face as I realized what was going on. “Do not make a snowman of me,” I hissed.

“Why not?” Grenadier asked. “We made one of Marina.” He cocked his thumb toward a particularly angry-looking snowman with snarling teeth made of nails. If she found out, we were all dead.

I reached up to grab my hat back, but he held it out of reach and placed his hand on the top of my head to keep me down like some schoolyard bully. “You could at least try to make them flattering,” I snapped as I pawed for my hat.

“I think accuracy is better.” One of the men came to take the hat from him, and I followed its course to the head of a pouting snowman. Then the men jammed a screwdriver in the middle of its face, so the handle stuck out for the nose.

“You’re all fired,” I muttered.

Marina came out a few minutes later and screeched the same thing, sending them men scurrying back to repairs. She examined each snowman with little more than a curious frown, pausing when she found mine. “He’s cute,” she said as she took the hat down to dust away the snow. “You’re practically twins.”


	13. Lights (999)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsuro gets exasperated just like any cat owner, except he has a cat alien boyfriend instead of a cat.

No matter how much I tried to explain, Meowdar couldn’t grasp an understanding of holidays. He’d smile and nod through my rambling, even though his brows were still furrowed in confusion. Above all else, Christmas decorations made no sense to him.

“But why?” he prodded again as I tugged a tangled strand of lights out of the box.

Irritation sank into my expression. I could only reword something so many times. “They’re just decorations,” I said. “They’re for fun - something pretty to look at.”

He paused to let the information sink in as best he could understand it. Seated on the floor, he batted at the dangling end of the lights. “Alright,” he said at length. “But why such small bulbs? They don’t give off enough light to increase vision in the dark.”

“They’re  _decoration_ ,” I repeated. “Not for lighting stuff up. They’re just to make the tree pretty.”

He glanced at the tree, frowning. I gave up on trying to explain it to him hours ago. “Why does the tree need to be pretty?” he asked.

I heaved a sigh and rubbed my hand across my face. If these tangled lights didn’t drive me off the deep end, his questions would. “Gosh, Meowdar, I don’t know. Just let me put it together, and once it’s all set up, you can ask me questions then.”

The room we lived in was far from cheerful. Cracks spidered across the concrete walls and floor, and basic amenities took up most of the small space. The tree I cut down stood barely a head taller than me, the only decoration we owned. I had to take pride in the scrawny evergreen, though Meowdar only seemed interested in curling up under it with a pillow.

With his interest now on the lights, his pupils widened as I yanked every knot loose. I couldn’t tell if I was making progress. It seemed every time I unraveled one spot, another tangled from some black magic. “Want to help?” I asked Meowdar with a sigh.

His hand drifted forward as though the lights would jump away from him. Just like me trying to explain holidays, asking him for explanations on his behavior always left me more confused. “They’re not going to bite,” I said.

All at once, he pounced, grabbing the lights and yanking them into his grasp. As I tugged back to keep him from stealing them all, he rolled himself up in them. “What are you doing?” I snapped.

Now that he was wrapped up as well as any Christmas tree, he blinked, and his pupils shrunk back to normal size. “I want them,” he said as he pawed at the ones in my hands again, eyes focused in with sharp interest. “Are you sure they’re not a toy instead of a decoration?”

“I’m sure.” I said. “Look.” I plugged the end in, and they lit up in a rainbow of colors. Meowdar looked around himself like the lights performed some magic trick, his jaw hanging open. “Now help me untangle- Don’t chew on them!” I snapped.

He lowered the wire from his mouth. “I wasn’t going to.”

Since he was clearly lying, I forced him to stay seated on the bed while I fitted them on the tree. I couldn’t say what about them put him in such a trance, but he stopped asking questions because of it. Once I finished, he crawled under the tree and stared up at the show of lights. After flicking off the overhead lamps I crawled under to stare up alongside him.

“They’re pretty,” he said. I hummed in agreement. Each light stood out in the sea of green needles. They warmed the cold room with more color than it had ever seen.

Meowdar seemed to glow alongside them. Different colors reflected in his eyes and splashed spotlights across his skin. “Do you get it now?” I asked.

He reached up to poke at a green light. “Maybe,” he said. “Am I supposed to want to eat them?”

“No,” I sighed. “Don’t eat the lights.”


	14. Candy Canes (SSX)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emeraldas/Tochiro set in whichever universe really. I just put SSX to have something there.

When Tochiro learned I knew little to nothing about Christmas, he sat me down and explained it with such excitement and wonder it seemed he could see every picture he described in front of his eyes. No one loved Earth holidays more than him, so I did my best to understand and participate in the odd rituals. Growing up on La Metal held nothing of the sort, and there was much to learn.

“Tochiro,” I called as he mulled over a stack of blueprints at his workshop desk. “Are you eating your coffee stirrer?”

His eyes rolled to me and blinked a few times before he pulled the curved stick from his mouth. The trance his work put him in led him to gnaw on non-food items in the past. Pencils were splintered by bite marks, busted pens filled his mouth with ink, and all too often wires found their way between his lips. He practically needed a babysitter to make sure he only ate real food on a regular basis.

This time, though, he wasn’t startled to find the coffee stirrer bitten in half. “Never had a candy cane before?” he asked, smiling in that way only he did when he found out I didn’t know something. There was no pity or condescension to it, just a light smile.

I pulled the stick from my drink to examine. The red stripes circling it were faded at the end, where the coffee melted them away. It smelled of mint, likely why my coffee held hints of the taste. “It’s a candy,” I said as I came to an understanding. “It is oddly shaped for a candy.”

He nodded, sticking his back between his teeth to snap the end off. “I think they’re hooked so you can hang them on the tree. It does make them harder to eat.”  

I snapped a piece off like he had and listened to it crunch in my ears. “It’s just a peppermint, isn’t it?” I asked before dropping it back in the coffee. I wasn’t much for sweets.

“I guess so,” he said, a grin easing onto his face. “But peppermints are all short and round like me, and candy canes are pretty and tall like you. They’re actually more of a holiday candy, and they also make for much better coffee stirrers. Our cook puts one in every new mug of coffee, so I’ve been eating a bunch lately.”

I strode over to him, around cluttered piles covering the floor. The air around him held the tinge of mint, either from his coffee or from him. I could only guess at the number of mugs he’d been through tonight already. “Candy is bad for you, I believe,” I said. “Too much coffee is bad as well.” I leaned over him to press my nose into his hair, my hand settling on his cheek. “But you do smell nice.”

He huffed and stuttered for a moment before biting off another piece of his candy cane. I pulled back to find his cheeks brilliantly pink. Even though he knew more than me when it came to so much, he was still such an innocent soul. “It’s mostly just my breath- I mean, my mouth is minty because I’ve eaten a bunch of them,” he spluttered, his eyes darting in every direction. “I really need a shower- not that I’m gross, but I-I… But I’m glad I smell good!”

There may have been an attempt to be smooth somewhere in there, and I had to give him points for trying. Even if he wasn’t, well, I saw no reason not to kiss him. 


	15. Tree (SSX)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harlock is an awkward dad, and his adopted kids stress him out.

It wasn’t until we were too far away from the ship to turn back that I understood Tadashi’s reservations for bringing Rebi along. She didn’t mind the cold or the endless walk. No complaints came because of the snow tripping her. In fact, she did little more than hum carols until we found our perfect tree.

“Why do we have to cut it down?” she asked, fists clenched in front of her. Those wide, doe eyes looked close to tears. I glanced to Tadashi for help, though he looked to me the same way.

“We can’t put the tree on the Arcadia if we don’t cut it down,” I said. “We wouldn’t be able to have a Christmas tree.”

Rebi stamped her foot in the snow with a crunch. Something about the gesture made Tadashi sigh. “But why do we have to kill it?” Rebi howled. “Can’t we dig it up by the roots?”

“We can’t plant a tree on the ship,” Tadashi said. He threw his hand out toward the frosted rows of firs around us. “Look, there are tons of trees in this forest. One isn’t going to be missed. You want a tree to hang ornaments on don’t you?”

I would have offered to buy a fake one, but I didn’t know where that would be possible. We needed a populated planet with a decent economy that wasn’t riddled with guards. Cutting one down sounded like the nicer option. I didn’t feel like hauling around a fake tree while being hunted by Illumidas soldiers.

Rebi sniffled, and her voice wavered with the threat of oncoming tears. “But I don’t want to hurt the tree.”

It was time to lie my way out of this. “Trees don’t feel any pain, Rebi. In fact, trees are happy to be picked for decoration. That’s why they compete to grow so nicely.” It disturbed me how easily the lies came. I had no skill for them until Rebi settled in on the ship.

“Really?” she whispered, the tension easing from her shoulders.

Tadashi nodded to back me up. “Oh yeah. All this tree’s friends will be jealous.” He seemed far less conflicted about telling her this, smiling with ease. I couldn’t be certain about the ethics of white lies for children, but Tadashi raised more than I had, so I decided he knew what he was doing.

“Alright,” Rebi said with an uneven smile. “We’ll make it extra pretty then.”

Tadashi flashed a triumphant grin. “Great. I’ll cut it!” He grabbed the ax at the base of the handle and stepped in front of the tree. My worry moved from Rebi to him. Everything about his form was wrong.

“Have you ever used an ax before?” I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, sheepish eyes judging my reaction. “No… but I can do it.”

To ensure all his limbs stayed attached, I ran him through a crash course on proper form and sent Rebi to stand far enough away that no flying ax would do her harm. With her blessing and my tentative okay, Tadashi attempted to embed a strong swing into the tree’s trunk. Instead, the uneven angle of the hit sent the head of the ax ricocheting off the tree as if made of rubber. Tadashi held on well, a little too well. I shouldn’t have brought the double-sided ax.

All the blood must have drained from my body, sinking out of my face and gut as the blade came back to hit Tadashi’s shin. He didn’t flinch.

“Are you okay, Brother?” Rebi yelled from the safety zone, too far out to see the dark red stain sinking into the edges of the tear in his pant leg.

“Fine,” he called back. Before I could ask too for confirmation, he smiled. “Just a scratch, Captain.”

Being around these two took years off my life. “Just make sure the doctor looks at it when we get back,” I sighed. “And let me cut down the tree.”

Three good whacks and it fell with a crash. Tadashi and I wrapped it in rope, while Rebi sat on it. “Forward, march!” she commanded as we set off, dragging it back to the ship. I never had a tree on a ship before, and we still needed some means to keep it from falling over during a fight. These kids conned me into the strangest things.

“You look tired, Captain,” Rebi said. “You should nap when we get back.”

“I think you two just tire me out,” I said. “But I’ll be fine without a nap.” A few glasses of wine sounded preferable anyway.


	16. Sledding (2013/SPCH/AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vague modern day AU where Yama and Daiba are difficult.

I saw no appeal in winter. The icy blasts of wind numbed my face, and no matter what type of boots I wore, snow turned my socks into wet mush. But while I suffered, Tadashi fell in love with everything winter had to offer. No matter what I said, he insisted I needed to enjoy the season with him. It may have just been a ploy to force me to drive him around.

His latest venture had me shoving on his back to help him build up speed. The red metal feet of his sled sliced through the snow underfoot, while I struggled to reach the edge of the hill. The slope’s angle must have been over sixty degrees, exactly the reason Tadashi picked it out. “This is a bad idea,” I said again through panting breaths.

He wiggled his feet in front of him, hands clutching the polished wood of the seat. “It’ll be fine. I’ve done this tons of times.” He heaved a sigh as we reached the edge of the hill. “You’re really bad at pushing. I would have just started at the top if I knew you couldn’t build up speed.”

“Well I’ve never done this before,” I snapped, starting him off by smashing my hands against his back. As I watched from the top, the sled upturned halfway down. He rolled the rest of the way down while I rolled my eyes. I told him this would happen.

When he came to a stop at the base, snow dusted every inch of him. It covered his green coat and clung to his eyelashes. He lay there, pouting and staring at the sky. I huffed a small cloud of misted breath into existence before easing my way down the hill on the sides of my feet. “I told you,” I called, but he didn’t seem too interested in me. His head rolled over, his eyes locked on his right arm. His left hand drifted over to tug his glove away, the movement making his eye twitch. Just as I stepped over him to see the mottled blue and black of his wrist, he screamed enough curses to make Harlock blush.

 

I couldn’t blame him for any of the words that left his mouth. When I helped him to his feet, his hand lolled against his arm as though the inside of his wrist had liquefied. My stomach rolled over at the sight. “Fuck, Yama,” Tadashi spat. “If you throw up before you get me to a hospital, I will punch you so hard.”

* * *

 

Daiba returned home with a cast on his arm. Yama sported a split lip. They greeted me with exhausted, dead eyed stares and a halfhearted “Hey, Harlock.”

I raised a hand to stop them from walking past me. “How?” I asked.

Both took an interest in the walls and ceiling. “Accident,” Daiba grumbled. Yama refused to say a word, but they huddled against each other and shivered from their drenched clothes.

They were both soaked from the snow, dripping puddles in the entryway. Before I let them anywhere near the hardwood, I brought them each a change of clothes. Daiba struggled with his sweater until I pulled it off for him and replaced it with the new one. With the fire going, they both made a beeline for the couch and curled up together under a blanket. They clearly shared it because it was the only blanket and not out of friendship. “This is all your fault,” Daiba grumbled. He glared at Yama out of the corner of his eye, and Yama glared right back.

“We wouldn’t have been out there if not for you,” Yama hissed.

I didn’t feel like dealing with a fight. “Want something to drink?” I asked.

“Cider,” Yama said.

Daiba’s eyes flashed with newfound interest. “Me too.”

“No,” I said. “No alcohol for you.” He attempted a half-dozen excuses, while Yama hid a smirk beside him. In the end, they both got cocoa. Their irritation with each other turned on me, while I sipped Cider and watched them pout.

Tomorrow, I would have a proper answer as to what exactly happened, but I had to let it slide for now. They both fell asleep within an hour, heads knocked together as they leaned against each other. I knew they would want to keep their feud going for a while longer, as their stubbornness always led them to do, so I carried each of them to bed. Otherwise they would have woken me up, screeching about the other falling asleep on them. 


	17. Mistletoe (2013)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ew Harlock/Yama ew.

In his free time, Yama stitched together flowers by unraveling DNA and testing a rainbow of chemical mixtures. He worked well into the night, and I always found him asleep against his desk with buds sitting in the fresh soil of a clay pot beside him.

As December sank in, Kei asked him if he planned to make mistletoe for the season. “I’ve never seen a real batch,” she said. “It would be fun to have, right Captain?” I didn’t see how I had anything to do with this, so I stayed quiet.

Yama’s lips twisted into a frown, and his nose wrinkled at the thought. “Mistletoe is a parasite. I’d rather work on things that can grow without feeding off another plant.” I found this to be a reasonable explanation. In fact, I was content with any excuse that kept the plant away from any doorways.

Kei looked less enthused. After Yama headed to the small room called his lab, she walked over to lean against the side of my chair, her arms crossed. “You should have backed me up there. I’m trying to help you out.”

I breathed a sigh through my nose. “I don’t need help with anything, Kei,” I said.

“Attitudes like that are exactly why you’re both so clueless.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. Apparently my feelings toward him were more obvious than I would have liked, but no matter. They would pass. It was better that they did.

I told myself exactly that every time I found him asleep in his lab, arms cradling his head. I reminded myself of it when I tapped his shoulder to wake him and watched him rub the sleep from his eyes. He blinked unevenly for a few breaths, deep and slow as he eased his way into the waking world.

“Fell asleep again,” he murmured through a weak smile, as if scolding himself. Dark swipes of purple stood out under his eyes like blotches of watercolor.

“What were you making this time?” I asked as I stepped closer to the small bushel of green sealed in a Petri dish.

“It isn’t quite right,” he said through a yawn. “I’ll have to make some more adjustments, but I gave a shot at mistletoe since Kei seemed so interested. Not that I’m going to let it touch anything else for now, so it will die pretty quick.” He shrugged and picked up the round container, turning it over in his hand. “I don’t get why she’s so interested in it. Kind of an ugly little plant.”

I frowned, wondering if he honestly didn’t understand. “You know what mistletoe is used for, yes?” I asked.

He cocked a brow and rested his cheek against his knuckles. “It’s a holiday decoration for some reason.” He didn’t seem to quite understand what I was getting at.

“Yes, but do you know what people are supposed to do with it?”

“Put it…places?” He placed the dish back on the desk and stood, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. His eye flashed over me with unbound curiosity. For whatever reason, he honestly did not know the use for mistletoe, and it was enough to put me on edge like some nervous schoolboy. Running my hand through my hair, I tried to think of the best way to explain.

“People are supposed to kiss under it,” I muttered in a rush, as if getting the words out fast enough would stress me out less.

“Oh, I thought holly was the kissing one. Guess I had them mixed up.” That was all, such a calm reaction. All my worry that it might somehow cause him a mass realization as to why Kei wanted it, and his response amounted little more than a shrug. “Well I won’t be putting it up anywhere, so you won’t have to worry about kissing someone you run into,” he said with a grin. “I’ll just leave it here.” Something weighted his eye, a curious warmth that forced me to remind myself the burning in my chest would go away eventually.

But I felt my expression weakening until my eye mirrored his, heated by lust. “God, I give up,” he said through a breath of a laugh. His hands grabbed both sides of my collar, dragging me toward him as he rose to his toes. I pulled off my glove just to run my fingers through his hair as the warmth of his kiss burned in my gut.

He temptingly parted his lips, hands sliding down my chest, but I needed to take a second to breathe. I pulled back to find him smiling in a daze, his eyes lidded. “This is a bad idea,” I felt myself say. I expected him to step back, to keep us from going down this path. Instead he hummed in agreement and pushed himself up for another taste. It was a terrible choice, but at least we were in agreement. 


	18. Eggnog (SPCH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tochiro, Emeraldas, and Mayu are a cute little family with cute little worries sometimes.

I saw no difference between this thick, soupy drink and sludge. Though I’d never tasted sludge, I imagined the two weren’t far apart. The way it sloshed around as I tilted the glass made me think of spoiled milk. “Tochiro, what is this made from?”

With Mayu swaddled in his lap, he showed no interest in looking my way. That usual contented smile warmed his face as he watched over our daughter. She grasped one of his fingers, while his other hand held his own glass.

“Tochiro,” I called again. When that still didn’t grab his attention, I switched tactics. “Harlock is taking the Arcadia out for a test run.”

His head shot up, eyes wide behind those thick glasses. “What!? But it’s not finished yet!”

Before he could jump up and run around like a headless chicken, I raised a hand to stop him. “I lied. I just wanted your attention.”

He blinked, a bright grin breaking out across his face. “You can always have my attention.”

“Unless Mayu is stealing it,” I said. He shrugged, unable to deny it. Pulling my hair forward to lie over my shoulder, I strode over and sat in front of him. The glass I placed between us with a solid clunk. “So, what is this horrible drink made from?”

“You don’t like it?” He took another sip of his glass, his head slightly tilted. “You know, I have no idea what eggnog is made out of.”

This did not convince me to continue drinking. “It has the consistency and taste of sludge,” I said. “I’m not convinced it’s safe to drink.”

He laughed through his teeth, as he was prone to do. “I think it’s alright. I’d guess it’s made with eggs, and that’s why it’s kind of thick. They’re in the name anyway. If you want, you can always add some alcohol to drown out the taste. I know Harlock puts bourbon in his, but he spikes everything. Anyway, I’ve been drinking it for years, so I promise it won’t make you sick. Mayu would probably like it.”

My eyes narrowed in on him. “Mayu does not need to be drinking anything of the sort.” Harlock already had a bad habit of giving her bits of food and drinks she didn’t need to be anywhere near. Unless Tochiro felt like joining him on the list of people banned from babysitting, Mayu would not suffer through a sip of eggnog.

Tochiro immediately shook his head, a nervous laugh bubbling at his lips. “I was kidding. I don’t think babies are supposed to drink the stuff anyway.”

Even so, I pulled the glass from his hand and picked mine up from the floor. “You shouldn’t be drinking it either,” I said. All of this horrible drink needed to go down the drain.

“Aw, don’t throw it out,” he pleaded, but he couldn’t move with Mayu sleeping in his lap. His eyes darted from the drinks to his daughter until he gave up with a sigh. I paused at the sink before echoing him. Of course the gross drink was harmless, and he wouldn’t give it to Mayu. He’d never let anything harmful anywhere near her, other than Harlock at least.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You can have it later. Just drink my share while you’re at it.”

His expression lit up back to its usual carefree grin. “Thanks, Emeraldas. I would have felt bad if I had to tell Harlock we threw it out after he went to the trouble of getting it for us.”

I blinked at him, the fridge door hanging open. “Harlock is the one who got this? Oh, it definitely needs to be thrown out then.”


	19. Stockings (GR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuki family and all the warnings that come along with a drabble about the Yuuki family.

When I walked through the front door, the look in Mom’s eyes was the same as it had been for Dad and Mamoru – joy weighted by sadness and worry. She walked up and placed her hand to my cheek, her eyes darting over every inch of my face to check for hidden cracks in my smile.

Christmas made it worse. Just like with Dad and Mamoru, I did my best each year to have the week off to visit her, but only a handful of SDF members could vacation during one of our busiest times of the year.

When I finally managed it for the first time, Mom greeted me with tears in her eyes. Just like every year before, all four of our stockings hung against the wall. And just like every year before, my entire body ached to look at them, but I knew it had to be even more painful for Mom to put them up.

Mamoru used to say we shouldn’t leave anything of Dad’s out, because it was too hard on Mom, but hiding things felt harder. Mamoru’s side of our room remained in nearly the exact condition he left it in, and I couldn’t imagine not having his stocking beside mine, his name stitched in blue thread at the top.

Usually, my visits meant endless catching up on the happenings of Tabito and Destiny. The holiday reminders sapped our strength, so instead we sat on the couch and leaned against each other. The clocked ticked from its place on the wall in an endless, exhausting rhythm, so our breathing matched time with it. Otherwise, the house stood silent for hours.

“Hey,” I whispered when I remembered how to speak. “You remember that time Dad came home for Christmas? I was like five-“

“Six,” she corrected softly. Her head rested against my shoulder, her eyes closed. I almost thought she was asleep until she responded.

“He had no idea what to get us,” I said. My lips twitched toward a smile. “But he had all those wrapped presents under one arm and the scrawniest dog in the world under the other.”

She hummed in soft amusement. “He started to ask us if anyone around town lost a dog, because he found it by the station, but you two thought that muddy little thing was your present. You couldn’t hear him over all your thank yous, and then we were stuck with him. I gave your father the meanest look for that.” She breathed a laugh as she rubbed the dog’s ear between her fingers.

“And the one time Mamoru came home for Christmas, and he came in so late, and it was supposed to be a surprise.” A laugh broke from my chest before I could finish, until I was in a giggling fit. Mom reached over and swatted the top of my head.

“I thought it was someone breaking in,” she huffed.

“You hit him with a pot,” I managed as my wheezing cackles died down. “What were you even doing in the kitchen? It was like two in the morning.”

“It was five, and I had to work on a nice breakfast for you.” Despite her attempt at a pout, a smile broke through. “He deserved it for trying to sneak up on me.”

My voice softened as my gaze wandered back to his name, stitched in blue. “You remember how he used to give you flowers every year? When we were younger, they were the best ones he could find growing outside, but they were always so ugly. Then, when he was away, he sent them in the mail every year.”

“And he always got you a toy train,” she whispered, “even when you were too old for them, because your father used to give you one.”

“And dad would send you flowers every year,” I said. So I knew what the smallest wrapped gift was, poking out of my stocking this time instead of having to go through the mail. Just like that vase full of flowers I showed up with now sat in the kitchen where she’d always put them.

Mamoru may have been right, and hiding the past away could have been the best way to heal. But even he never managed to follow through with it, and neither could we. I always felt better to have something there from them, because it meant they weren’t really gone.


	20. Gingerbread (2013)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yama and Ezra childhood things. Special appearance by nameless mom.

The alarm intruded in on my dream, one of the few nice ones my brain let me think up in a while. Back at the academy, they taught us to jump out of bed and throw on our clothes in less than ten seconds, but on the Arcadia, I rolled to my feet and shrugged on a jacket. No one bothered to change out of their sleep clothes except Harlock, who probably didn’t sleep anyway.

The battle wrapped up in less time than it took us to all shuffle to our stations. Afterwards, everyone wandered back the way they came. My bed did sound like heaven – warm, slightly too hard on my back heaven. But my growling stomach turned my feet toward the galley. The cook wasn’t there to scold me for eating in the middle of the night, so I poured a glass of milk and raided the cookie jar.

Still half asleep, I felt only vaguely aware of my actions and surroundings. I hardly remembered walking to the table, instead finding myself sitting there with my palm holding my chin. I couldn’t tell if I was blinking or falling asleep with each uneven droop of my eyelids. In the end, I didn’t care. I stuck a cookie between my teeth and snapped it in two.

Was it gingerbread or a ginger snap? Was there even a difference? Either way, I knew the flavor of that mulled spice anywhere – sharpness mixed with sweetness like a good alcohol. Except, I never had alcohol as a kid, but Mom made us gingerbread every winter.

She cut the pieces to precise measurements like an exact science, checking every side with a ruler and protractor. From there, four walls and two sides of a sloping roof appeared. She pressed details in with the back side of a butter knife – doors and windows. Ezra piped on the white icing to glue the pieces together. When it stood finished, I always found myself wondering if houses with such an odd shape had ever truly existed.

Every year I asked if I could help put the pieces together, and every year Ezra reminded me of the time I made the house collapse with my attempt. Mom smiled and tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe next year, bud,” she said. “Your brother likes to be in charge of this, but you can put on the candy.”

She looked as tired as ever, eyes worn by endless hours of work, but she always smiled for the two of us. When we eventually fell to arguing over the house, because we always argued over something – placement of candy types or specific icing patterns – she grabbed one ear from each of us and pulled up just enough that they burned pink. No anger touched her face or voice, only calm authority. “Hey.” Brown eyes flashed between us. “You each have a job here, so you’re not going to intrude on each other’s work, right?”

We muttered unconvincing assurances.

“Now, since that fight is over, you have to make up.” When neither of us spoke, she released our ears but crossed her arms. “Whether you like it or not, we love each other in this family, so you have to make up. Can’t eat the house if you don’t make up.”

I threw a hug around Ezra’s middle until he gave in with a sigh. After quick apologies with clear ulterior motives, Ezra finished his pristine lines of white icing just in time for me to ruin it by smashing all types of rainbow candy on top in no set pattern. I couldn’t understand why it mattered when we tore it apart and ate it right after Mom took a picture.

Ezra picked the candy off his pieces to set on my plate, like a peace offering to show we honestly had no hard feelings. Mom watched us, her smile warming her eyes.

This time, Harlock stole me from my dream with a light shake of my shoulder. In his other hand he clasped a glass of wine. As I blinked myself awake, he sipped it, watching me over the rim.

My body felt weighted by sleep as I dragged my head off the table. I could feel the imprint of it stuck to my cheek. The plate of cookies sat empty, though I couldn’t remember eating all of them. Maybe the captain ate one, I thought with an uneven smile. Looked like he really didn’t sleep.

“I didn’t think you would want to sleep here,” he said.

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. My neck ached from the odd position, and my bed still sounded like heaven. But my half-asleep mind wandered again. “Harlock,” I murmured. “You think the cook could make the parts of a gingerbread house?”


	21. Christmas Dinner (CWZ/SPCH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This request specifically asked for Zero, Marina, young Harlock, Daiba, and Kei. So this is one of those "AUs where everything is the same except..."  
> Also a little bit of Harlock/Zero.

I told Marina we didn’t need to dress up for a dinner with Harlock, but she insisted. I think she wanted to show him up in some form out of spite for being dragged onto his ship. So while I showed up in nice slacks and a button-up, Harlock wore his usual blue suit. At the sight of me, he snickered.

I shoved the bottle of wine we brought into his hands. “Come on,” I sighed. “Let’s make this as painless as possible.” Marina and I didn’t have a choice. We owed Harlock. He gave us the tip that led us to the capture of our last target, and in return we agreed to Christmas dinner on the Deathshadow. I never would understand his motives.

“We’ll have fun if you just relax,” he said as he led us to the table set up in his cabin. Tochiro was nowhere to be seen, but two children already sat there. The smaller one, a boy no older than ten, shoveled cranberry sauce into his mouth. “Tadashi,” Harlock warned. “I told you not to start eating yet.”

The scrawny blond boy dropped his fork with a pout. Across from him sat a lanky girl who could have been his sister, maybe fourteen. She greeted us with a smile and a wave. Harlock turned to find me glaring at him. “Why are there children on a pirate ship?” I asked.

“Well you know.” He shrugged. “We found them, so we brought them along.”

I blinked, feeling so flustered I forgot how to speak for a moment. Marina spoke for me. “What?”

“Introduce yourselves,” Harlock told the kids.

“I’m Kei Yuki,” the girl said before pointing to the boy. “That’s Tadashi Daiba.”

I reached up to tip my cap at her, only to find empty air. My hand flitted back down as I remembered I wasn’t wearing it. “My name is Warrius Zero,” I said. “And this is Marina Oki. I’m sorry, but how do you two know Harlock?”

“I wanna eat!” Tadashi howled. “I’m starving!”

“You ate a meal like an hour ago,” Harlock said. I remembered that tone. He sounded so much like I had when dealing with a screeching child, worn down from exhaustion.

I still needed an explanation for where these children came from, but Marina and I took our seats to get dinner going before Tadashi started eating the tablecloth. Harlock poured wine for the three of us, while Tadashi used both hands to tip his milk glass toward him. Kei sat silently, the most polite child I’d met sitting across from the grumpiest.

“But really, Harlock,” I said as he sliced up the ham. “Where did these kids come from?”

“Earth.” He passed a slice to Tadashi, who proceeded to eat it with his hands. Admittedly, he was a cute kid, though he desperately needed a haircut for that bird’s nest falling into his eyes.

Harlock appeared to treat them well, and there had to be a reasonable explanation. “You know I’ll have to take them out of your custody if you don’t give me some straight answers,” I said.

Kei said nothing but eyed me with a sharpness that rivaled Marina’s gaze. Tadashi looked ready to go for my throat, but a smirk eased onto Harlock’s face. “Look, I know you’re a sucker for kids, but these ones are mine fair and square. If you want to steal them so bad, you can just stay here with me.”

As I tried to process whatever he was talking about, Tadashi smacked at my arm. “Mister,” he demanded. “Are you a pirate too?”

I threw Marina a curious glance, wondering how safe revealing our title to children could be. She shrugged, brows furrowed in confusion. “No,” I said. “I’m an Independent. I work for the Earth government.”

Something about my second statement made Harlock’s eyes widen and lock on his small charge. A forkful of potatoes froze a few inches from his mouth. At the same time, Tadashi’s face reddened. He appeared to be holding his breath and was about to turn purple when Kei spoke. “Tadashi doesn’t like the government,” she said.

The boy let out his breath just to scream at me. “They’re the worst! You’re horrible! Go away!” Tears welled up in his eyes, and his lips trembled. I couldn’t stand to make children cry, and my stomach twisted at the sight. Harlock appeared to share my feelings.

“He’s not like them, really,” Harlock said in a rush to get an explanation out. “Zero is a great guy. He kind of works for the government, but he’s not one of them. He acts more like a pirate than one of those lazy bastards.”

Marina threw a disapproving glare his way, either because of the swear or comparing us to pirates. I worked on recovering from him calling me great.

Fat tears rolling down his cheeks, Tadashi rubbed at his eyes and sniffled until my heart couldn’t take it. “The government does some bad things,” I said. “I don’t agree with everything they do, but it’s my job to keep space safe for travelers and to help Earth rebuild.” Careful not to scare him off, I reached out to ruffle his hair.

Shimmering eyes peered up at me from behind his hands. “I think he’s okay,” Kei said. Harlock backed her up with an affirming nod, and that was all it took for Tadashi. Once he cleared his plate, he crawled into my lap and let me wipe the food from his face with a napkin. Harlock stared at the two of us, chin in his palm and a warm smile on his face. Marina eyed Harlock with suspicion. Kei didn’t appear interested in any of us.

By the time we finished the wine, Tadashi slept against me with a gentle snore. A flush dusted Harlock’s cheeks, possibly from the second bottle of wine he opened for himself. While Marina instructed Kei on how a ship should be run, Harlock scooted over to take Tadashi’s seat beside me.

“You really are good with kids,” he hummed. A drunken smile warmed his face. “I heard the Earth kids loved you. Nice to know the rumors were true.”

I couldn’t imagine why he would hear such rumors about me. “They hated me for a while after the war,” I murmured. “Glad things have turned around for the most part.” Tadashi sighed in his sleep, so I reached up to run my fingers through his hair. Despite its appearance, I caught no knots.

A gentle weight appeared against my shoulder – Harlock resting his temple against me. “Okay, but you can’t give him more attention than me,” he said. “Gotta brush my hair too.”

I shrugged my shoulder to bump him off. “You get enough attention, and I don’t need to spoil you anymore than you already are.”

Never one to be put off, he leaned his face in closer to my neck. “You should stay here. We can raise the kids together, and I’ll spoil you too.”

Across the table, Marina blinked at the tipsy pirate with one brow raised. I did my best to lean away from him as my neck burned in a blush. “Harlock,” I huffed. “I’m taking the kids back to the Karyū.”

“Nah.” His arms snaked their way around me and Tadashi. “Those are my kids, but you’re welcome to share.” 


	22. Ornaments (SPCH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emeraldas and Tochiro set up a good Christmas for Mayu, while Harlock begrudgingly helps.

Emeraldas showed emotion when she saw fit. She had such a strong grasp on what she revealed on her face that almost everyone found her intimidating. Though he would never admit it, Harlock was one of those people.

Because of that, he sat in a circle with us on the floor of my workshop, gluing together our makeshift pile of craft supplies into objects vaguely resembling ornaments. Sitting beside the pile, Mayu played with a strand of red ribbon, while we all watched to make sure she didn’t try to eat it. She teetered on occasion, threatening to fall over like all toddlers without a complete grasp on how to balance.

“She is going to have a good, normal Christmas,” Emeraldas told Harlock through gritted teeth when he tried to say otherwise. “I don’t care how hard it is to get a tree or ornaments. I don’t care if we have to make them all ourselves.” She pressed a finger into his chest as his expression squirmed in discomfort. “She will have exactly what I never had, and she’s getting a perfect Christmas. You’re helping.”

Harlock’s pile of attempted ornaments were the worst of the bunch. He struggled to find ways to morph bolts and bottles into anything other than what they were. It was clear he ran out of ideas when he tied a hook to the base of a wine glass and set it upside-down in his pile. “Harlock, at least paint it somehow,” Emeraldas said.

Harlock’s brows pinched together. “But I can’t use if I paint it,” he said. “I want it back after we’re done with the tree.”

“You’ll just smash it anyway,” I snorted. “Give this one up for Mayu and paint it.”

Harlock always caved at those two words – “for Mayu.” Then again, so did I, but that was another thing Harlock would never admit. Emeraldas let a smile warm her lips as she watched him huff and grab the paint. “What should I put on it?”

“Holly would be nice,” Emeraldas said.

“And if you’re gonna hang it upside-down like that, you can make it into a bell,” I added.

Despite the irritation on his face, he nodded. Mayu took an interest in his paintbrush and stood to waddle over to him. Without needing to look up, he unfolded his legs and stuck out his foot to block her path. Emeraldas didn’t usually approve of his way with kids, but I thought he did fine.

As I stacked gears of varying sizes into a mini replica of a tree, Emeraldas scooped Mayu up and pulled the squirming girl into her lap. “Here you go,” Emeraldas hummed, handing Mayu a snowman ornament she’d made.

“Careful she doesn’t try to throw it,” I said. But she appeared content with shaking it in her pudgy hands, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“You know, if I’m going through all this trouble to make these silly little things, can we at least have a skull and crossbones to put on the tree?” Harlock asked. His steady hands made for some nice holly painted along the outside of the glass. He could have made for a decent artist if he wasn’t always shooting things.

“I suppose we could have one,” Emeraldas said. “You’ll have to find a way to make that.”

“I have a flag we can just drape on the tree. It’ll take up lots of space, and we won’t have to make as many ornaments.”

Emeraldas eyed him with all the sharpness of her saber. “You will make a normal sized ornament, or we won’t have one.” Harlock threw a glare right back.

“Boy,” I cut in before he could say something stupid. “I sure am glad we’re such good friends, so we can spend the holidays together and have a great time.” I did my best to sound genuine despite the joke.

“Such good friends,” Harlock huffed.

“Yes, a great time,” Emeraldas muttered.

Mayu squealed in unbridled joy. At least someone honestly agreed with me.


	23. Carols (SPCH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this chapter didn't show up the first time I tried to post it so???  
> Here's Harlock/Daiba n'stuff.

My breath whistled from my throat in sharp gasps, a cold sweat building across my back. Nightmares shouldn’t have scared me after so many so often, but before I even caught my breath, I slipped out of bed. Tucking my pillow under my arm, I headed for the door with my blanket dragging behind me. The weight of my harmonica hung in the corner of my pillowcase, just for nights like this.

Everyone in the halls slept like the dead, and I stepped over them with ease. It felt like second nature at this point. My eyes stung with the need for rest, but I knew I couldn’t sleep anywhere but the computer room tonight.

My feet padded across the chilled metal floors that vibrated with the soothing hum of the computer. I was so entranced by it I didn’t notice Harlock standing in front of the glowing tower until the door closed behind me.

He looked back over his shoulder at me, his brows knitted. “You’re not sleepwalking, are you?” he asked.

“Kind of,” I mumbled. I felt too tired to care that he saw me and too tired to wonder why he was standing there in the middle of the night. Instead of asking or explaining, I walked the rest of the way to the computer’s side and laid my blanket and pillow down beside it.

“You’re going to sleep here,” Harlock said. It wasn’t a question, but I knew he wanted a reason.

“Easier to sleep here,” I said. I lied down and wrapped the blanket around me with my arms sticking out to pull my harmonica from the pillowcase. The metal didn’t compare to a mattress, but the rumble of the computer and the heat from the lights made up for it. In the cold silence of space, the computer was warm white noise and the best sleep aid this side of asking the doctor for a tranquilizer.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Harlock said as the ringing of his spurs neared me.

Sure, it left aches and the occasional bruise by morning, but that went away. I offered him a shrug as I laid on my side, my harmonica up to my lips to play myself a lullaby. But Harlock’s arm slipped under me to drag me up. I opened my eyes to find him sitting beside me, pulling me to lean against his side. His arm stayed around my shoulders, so I guessed I was stuck.

“Hey, Captain,” I greeted as if I’d just seen him. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

His eye stared straight ahead into the wall. Lights from the computer shone against his hair and bathed the black of his outfit in splashes of yellow and red. “What are you going to play?” he asked.

My harmonica hovered in front of my open mouth. All I managed for a second was a drawn-out “uhh.” I needed to play something nice for him in return for his company. While I tried to think, I rearranged my blanket to fall over his bent knees along with mine. “I can play a Christmas song,” I said, my tone prodding for approval. “It’s almost Christmas and stuff.”

He blinked. “Is it? Hm, I guess it is. Alright, go ahead.”

I didn’t think he cared one way or the other, but I needed a song to put me to sleep. I tossed Christmas songs through my head, trying to recall one that wasn’t obnoxiously cheerful. “What’s a slow one?” I sighed.

His eye rolled up in thought for just a moment. “Stille Nacht,” he said with a nod.

“What?”

For the first time since he sat down, he looked at me. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard it. It’s- ah, what is it? Silent Night?”

I felt my eyes widen further as I stared at him like an absolute idiot. Maybe I had heard of it, but I couldn’t remember with the heavy fog of sleep weighing on my mind. He didn’t give me the reaction I expected. Instead, he gave one of those rare smiles that warmed his eyes. My cheeks warmed at the sight of it, and I turned to face forward like that could hide my blush.

“Come here, so I can do this right,” he said as his arms once again slipped under me. I froze in utter disbelief, tensed like a coiled spring even as he settled me across his lap. He laughed, little more than a bouncing breath, and led my head to rest against his shoulder. “Is this alright?” he asked.

It had to be wrong. I was still stuck in a dream, or my exhaustion had me hallucinating. Still, I leaned my face closer to his neck and breathed in the musky hue of his scent, mixed with an ashy touch of a gun blast and the spice of mulled wine. “S’fine,” I mumbled.

He took a deep breath, and his chest rose against me. Then he sang, a low rumble from his chest almost like the constant hum of the computer. But this swayed and swelled with each word of a song I couldn’t understand. It could have been about anything. That didn’t matter. All I cared to hear was his voice, and I held on to every passing note. My eyes drifted shut to hear better, and the song seemed to circle around me, until it was all there was. I would have given my soul to hear all of it, but it carried me to sleep just as easily as he held me there. 


	24. Foggy Breath (SBY)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Kodai brother stuff. I don't know.

We shared a tiny flat, just like everyone else who moved underground. I doubted there was a family on our floor, hell, in our building, who hadn’t lost someone. That was what drove us all here – homes destroyed in a bombing. Susumu hated the place, little kid cooped up underground. Guess I couldn’t blame him. After all, I spent so little time there with him that I always forgot which cabinet we kept the plates in.

“Are you sure you don’t move these every time I’m gone just to mess with me?” I asked, frowning at the cups.

“No,” he yelled from the bedroom, which we called a living room during the day. “You’re just stupid.”

He’d grown into a smartass at some point. Maybe the other kids at school taught him that. It sure wasn’t me. Dad never let me talk that way, but I wasn’t dad, and getting onto him when I was only around every few months felt unfair. Besides, what fifteen year-old didn’t call people stupid?

After dumping a few of the frozen blocks apparently called food on a plate, I tossed it in the microwave and walked back into the living room. Susumu lay on his stomach on the floor, reading a book for school. His feet kicked back and forth in a drowsy rhythm. Every time I came back during leave, I felt like I’d forgotten how to talk to him. For the first day, he’d giddily ask me questions and stick close to my side, but once the excitement of having me back wore off, he went back to what I could only guess was his usual routine.

He ate without me and did his homework without complaint. That did weird me out. I plopped down on the couch and watched him read while the microwave hummed in the kitchen. “Hey,” I said. I reached out with my foot and poked his side with my toes. “I’m bored. Talk to me.”

“Talk to yourself,” he huffed, ramming his elbow into my foot.

I poked him harder instead, practically kicking him. “Don’t talk to me that way. Why are you being such an ass? Dad wouldn’t have let you get away with that.”

He tossed me a glare from the corners of his eyes. “Dad’s not here.”

He had me there. The microwave dinged, saving me from having to think of a response. I’d forgotten what a pain in the ass teenagers were. “So,” I called from the kitchen as I pulled out my plate. “How was school?”

“Boring.”

Alright, I couldn’t blame him for that answer. That question used to get on my nerves too. I walked back and settled myself in front of him, down on my stomach with my plate in front of me. “Hey,” I said again. “You’re almost old enough to start flight training.”

His boredom eased away with a small smile that barely reached his eyes. “Next year,” he said. “I’m signing up right when I turn sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” A pang of worry hit me. “I couldn’t sign up ‘til seventeen. They changed it?”

Those wide brown eyes shone with joy, his smile widening to a grin. “Yeah, it’s great. Don’t have to wait so long. I’ll finally get to go back to the surface. And once I’m 17, if I’m good enough, I can go on missions!”

The government lowered all the age limits sometime while I was away. With Susumu smiling, I did my best to return it. I wanted him to have one more year to be a kid, the same as me, but we always needed more soldiers to replace the ones we’d lost. I placed my hand to the top of his head, hiding a sigh. “You just be careful out there. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He laughed and shook my hand off, which didn’t make for the best assurance. At least we had something to talk about again. “So, does it still snow on the surface? I know it’s winter right now.” He leaned his chin into his palm, his elbow holding him up. I found myself mirroring him.

“Not that I know of,” I said. “Whole surface is heated up.”

“But it’s cold in space, right? Snows on lots of other planets, doesn’t it? Haven’t seen snow in forever.”

“Well there’s carbon monoxide snow on Pluto if that counts. We don’t stop on planets other than Mars if we can help it. They’re not life-friendly for the most part.”

His mouth screwed into a pout. It surprised me he wanted to see snow at all. Last time we’d really seen snow was the day the bombs wiped out our city. “But it is definitely cold in space,” I added.

His head twitched to the right. “Can you see your breath?”

“What?” I felt my head twitch to the left.

“You know, is it so cold that you can see your breath when you breathe out?”

“Well, no one would go out without an insulated suit, so I don’t know if you can see your breath in the void of space or not.” If you could, it wouldn’t be for long. “The helmets are made to not fog up from condensation, but you can still see it for a second sometimes.”

He nodded but looked a little disappointed. I couldn’t be sure what was going on in that head of his. “I just can’t wait to get out of here. I want to be able to see outside again, you know?”

“No,” I said. I wanted to be honest with him, but at the same time I wanted him to keep that childish excitement about the outside. No matter what truths I gave him, I knew disappointment was inevitable. “When you’re out there for so long, you really just want to come back home.”

But then again, maybe that was only true because he was here. It was only true as long as I had someone to come back to. Once he was out in space, off with his own platoon, there was nothing left for me here but a tiny flat where I couldn’t remember where we kept the plates.


	25. Gift Exchange (GR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, I blubber from the floor.  
> Here's some Sirius Platoon babies, set sometime in early season 2.

Two months before, Louise looked me dead in the eye with the type of glare that made me take a step back. “Kilian,” she warned. “We have a rule in this platoon. No Christmas presents. Presents are for birthdays.”

At one point or another through the next two months, everyone in Sirius platoon backed her up.

“Yeah, we’re not supposed to buy things for each other,” Manabu said with a shrug.

“I’m not sure who decided on the rule,” Yuki said. “But it has been in place for some time.”

“Had that rule since I’ve been here,” the captain muttered, eyes rolled up in thought.

“Oh sure,” David snorted. “We’re supposed to follow the rule.”

Looking back, I felt like I should have caught the inconsistency sooner – “supposed to,” they kept saying. On Christmas morning, when I walked into the lounge area our rooms filtered into, everyone sat on the U-shaped couch, spaced apart to make room for the piles of gifts sitting beside them. My stomach dropped. I glanced wide-eyed from one to the other. Everyone looked calm except Louise, whose arms were crossed. “Weren’t supposed to get me presents,” she huffed, despite the pile of gifts for everyone else beside her, each tied with a shimmering bow.

“What!?” I spluttered. “You said no presents!” I pointed accusingly at each of them. Manabu at least had the decency to look ashamed, but everyone else smiled my way.

“That’s the rule,” David said. “We haven’t followed it as long as it’s been in place, but don’t feel bad. No one actually knows to get gifts the first time. Just give us the gift of friendship. That’s what I did my first year.”

“It’s really okay, Kilian,” Manabu offered with genuine empathy in his smile. “This is your freebie year. Just come sit down.”

I bit my tongue to keep from mentioning how my training was over in a few more months. After that, my role in Sirius was over. At some point, I had to buy gifts for all of them to make up for this. But I followed orders, climbing over the back of the couch to sit beside Manabu’s pile of gifts wrapped in wrinkled blue paper.

“Alright,” the captain said once I took my seat. He grabbed a wrapped box from his pile and tossed it across the gap to Louise, who grabbed one of her gifts to throw at David. David threw to Manabu, who threw to Yuki. Yuki passed one to me. I couldn’t imagine what gift anyone could give an android, or what an android could give me, but I had no room to talk. Before I finished looking over the pristine wrapping Yuki managed for my gift, another box, hit me in the chest. I looked up to find gifts passed back and forth with no concern they might collide in the air. It seemed like everyone had done this a hundred times before. I caught three more before they could hit me in the face. The trading ended with a lazy wave of the hand from the captain. “Alright, have at it,” he said.

Everyone tore into one present seemingly at random, leaving me to follow suit. Sure, there was a method to all this madness, but it was madness all the same. They threw “thank you” back and forth just as easily as they’d thrown the presents. I did my best to keep up, earning a smile with every thanks.

I found myself with an odd assortment of gifts: new gloves from the captain because I still wore ripped ones since our last mission, a framed picture of us from Louise, a deck of playing cards from David with different trains on each card because he said “I needed to be familiar with all of them,” an ear thermometer from Yuki, and a baseball mitt from Manabu. The last one seemed the strangest until I recalled the time I told him I’d never had one.

They were all too good at this, not just with me, but even more so with each other. Louise squealed over tickets to some play. Manabu rolled his eyes over a hairbrush, while David cackled. Yuki replaced her red hair bow with a new pink one she seemed to be in love with. The captain folded a scarf to sit beside him, right next to one more present left unopened.

Beside each of them, I found one last gift, but no one acknowledged it. The one beside Louise was wrapped in a bow, beside Manabu sat one in wrinkled blue paper. I had to ask. “Manabu?” I kept my voice low while everyone else gathered trashed paper. “What are the last ones?”

His eyes turned to the gift at his side, softening at the sight of it. “We’ll go give them to him in a minute,” he murmured.

It didn’t answer my question, but true to his word, everyone stood after a minute with the last gift in their hands. The whole room sobered despite attempts from each of them to keep joking and smiling. It felt like a fog rolled in over them, and it followed them as they walked to the door. I trailed along a few feet back. Whatever this was, and I had a guess, I wasn’t part of it.

We left the barracks, across the back of the station to the cliff at the edge. I couldn’t quite call the grave there lonely when all of them gathered around it. The green of the surrounding grass complimented the light gray of the stone. I stayed a few paces back from the group until Manabu turned and motioned me over. Without a choice, I walked over to stand beside him in the half circle around the grave.

Each of them unwrapped their gift, all of them small, and placed it on the flat stone over the ground. A beer from David, a strawberry drink from Yuki, a card from the captain, and a picture from the Louise with all of them in it, along with him. Manabu placed a harmonica down, a smile on his face. “Sorry I broke yours,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Bruce.”

On the way back, David slung an arm around my neck. “Remember, you only get one freebie year,” he said.

“I still don’t really get why we have that rule,” Manabu sighed, shaking his head.

The captain scratched a hand through his hair. “Tradition, I guess.”

The fog left, just as suddenly as it came. They bickered back and forth on the merits of the rule until we reached the lounge again, and I spoke up. “You know I won’t be in Sirius next year,” I said.

David barked a laugh, Louise giggling with him. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not true,” the captain said.

Manabu sat on the back of the couch, grinning. “Once you’ve been a member of Sirius, you’re stuck with us. You’re getting presents next year too.”

“Shh,” Louise hissed as she tried to hide a smile worming on her lips. “We don’t give presents. That’s the rule.”


End file.
